Under The Bridge
by Luwana-Fluff-Dragon
Summary: Deleted scene'. Selene's thoughts and actions as she waits for sunset trapped under the bridge with Michael after being saved from drowning.


My first proper ficlet. Read and review please? :)  
  
Set in the scene from the book, where Selene wakes up during the daylight hours, and is forced to straddle Michael to avoid being burnt.  
  
I do not own Selene, Michael, Underworld, or anything else that is uberly cool like that, that all belongs to Sony, Kevin Grevioux, et al.  
  
//text// = Selene's own thoughts.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Selene shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position atop the unconscious American. Not that her previous position hadn't been comfortable enough, but sitting astride a man she'd just met didn't exactly put the vampires at ease, no matter how much clothing he was still wearing.  
  
//He looks so peaceful when he's asleep...//  
  
She shook her head sharply. She had more important things to think about. Like why the Lycans were so determined to capture Michael. Intelligence reported that Singe, their seemingly multi-purpose scientist, was still alive, or at least that they had found somebody of his talent, so they couldn't be after the young doctor's medical skills. With a frustrated sigh Selene allowed her eyes to rake over the body beneath her critically. There was no doubt that he was physically strong, but he didn't seem to be unusually so. His head moved slightly, as if irritated, and Selene spotted a section of hair lying across his cheek. Biting her lip slightly in mild embarrassment she reached out and quickly brushed it away from his face, her finger touching his skin briefly, triggering an electricity like tingle through her body. She jerked her hand away after a minute but achingly long pause, cursing at herself under her breath.  
  
//What in the name of the Elders is wrong with you girl.//  
  
Another sigh escaped her, this time gentle and edged with sadness. The Elders. Viktor. Nearly one hundred years her sire had been gone, and for another one hundred years he would remain in his tomb, untouched by the passing years, before he finally re-emerged to take his place as the head of the vampires again. Amelia was a good ruler, she couldn't deny that. But Selene's time with the vampire who had turned her had been, though extremely useful in its own right, far too short for Selene's liking. She doubted she would ever admit it to anyone but herself, but in the time after her family's death, Viktor had effortlessly slipped into the hole she'd been left with, helping to bandage a wound that would never truly heal. While everyone else she had met since that day was just another name, a collection of abilities to be used to her advantage in combat and in training, Viktor was different. Yes he had taught her, he had taught her well, about all manner of things, killing those monsters being only one of them. He'd taught her to hold her own in life at Ordoghaz, of the ever shifting political sands, and how to read them, and how to avoid it all and stay focussed on the task at hand. He had shown her how to store, tap and channel her rage. He was more than just a name and a set of stats. 'Father figure' didn't quite cover it either. He was her only family now, asleep under the marble and stone of his mansion...  
  
A sharp movement from Michael jerked Selene back to reality. She had drifted off, again. Not something she could afford to do at present, as she noted a sunbeam that had drawn dangerously close while she had been reminiscing. A frown appeared across her flawless features, glancing down at Michael to see him still twitching erratically, his eyes darting from side to side under his eyelids, and droplets of sweat forming on his forehead. //A nightmare...?// She eyed the sunbeams, none of which was any imminent threat now, pondering their direction. //Still a few hours until sunset// she calculated. Observing the young man now with curiosity, and a little more than a twinge of concern, her mind began to muse on what could be troubling him. And what it was about him that made her so curious, made her feel drawn to him, and made her long for him to open his eyes so she could try to determine just what shade of greenbrown they were...  
  
//Drawn? Longing? Oh woe is me, be still my beating heart. Selene what the hell has gotten into you?//  
  
Her eyes narrowed to a glare, though it was aimed more at herself than anything around her. Michael meanwhile remained caught up in whatever it was that haunted his slumber, his head beginning to thrash violently from side to side, the sand around him scattering. Selene thought she could hear him mumbling, something she couldn't quite make out, but the urgency clear even in his whispers. "Oh stop it, you'll choke yourself," she muttered quietly, eyeing the flying sand. A dirtied segment of hair hit him on the cheek and the Death Dealer caved, rolling her eyes as she used one hand to hold his head the best she could, the other brushing the grit away from his eyes and mouth, cleaning him off. As she finished dusting, her hand came away damp, much to her confusion. //He should be dried out by now, we've been here for hours.// Her hand was clean, it wasn't blood. Moving her hand back to find out what had happened, she managed to catch a drop of the liquid on her finger. A glimmer of compassion flickered across her face, as she hesitantly tasted the drop to make sure. He was crying.  
  
Her hand was no longer steadying his head, but she couldn't bring herself to remove it, her thumb stroking softly, seemingly of its own will. She felt his trembling body slowly relax beneath her, heard his breath begin to slow to a deep and even rhythm as whatever had been plaguing his dreams began to fade. Selene let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding in a long, drawn out sigh, closing her eyes, finally becoming tired. She felt Michael stirring again, and reluctantly opened her eyes to check he was ok, only to start slightly as she saw he appeared to be nuzzling against her hand in his sleep. The gesture would have been mildly soothing, had it not been used on one so unaccustomed to displays of affection, and had the gesture not been so undeniably Lycan. He was dry now, cold sweat gone, dry and warm, scalding her unusually cold skin, branding her.  
  
Shuddering Selene checked the sky through the cracks in the bridge above them one last time. Only the dying traces of the suns rays remained. A sad smile pulled at the corners of her lips, as she shifted her weight off of the man beneath her. Picking him up with unnatural ease, she began to make her way towards the nearest safehouse, in hopes of finding a car. //Come on Mr Corvin. Time to get you somewhere a little safer.// 


End file.
